Kiss It Better
by Ramiel the Scrivener
Summary: The journey home on the Hogwarts Express next day was eventful in several ways. A brief stroll away from his friends allows Harry Potter to discover one of these ways.


Kiss it Better

Ramiel/R. Rodriguez

rrodriguez1961@hotmail.com 

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All HP characters belong to JK Rowling

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                Harry Potter sat quietly in his seat aboard the Hogwarts Express, only half-listening to his friend Ron's indignant raging against the object of his sister's affection, Dean Thomas. He supposed he wasn't a very good friend for doing so, but the wounds inflicted upon him by his godfather's untimely death were still raw, leaving Harry little room for anger on his friend's behalf. It was truly odd, how he could concentrate just enough to help hex Malfoy and his goons into oblivion but not nearly enough to protest Ginny Weasley's choice of men. He briefly looked at the small clock in the compartment, realising that there was still a good hour before the train would pull into King's Cross Station and force Harry to spend another summer with his atrocious Muggle relatives.

                "I'm going to take a walk," Harry said quietly, startling Ron out of his rant and into an uncomfortable silence. Harry saw Hermione's face flicker with something akin to pity, before masking it with curiosity. Harry almost scowled. He didn't want her pity, nor did he want Ron's. He needed someone to talk to; it wasn't like he was going to go kill himself if he wasn't under his friends' watchful eyes.

                "Sure thing, mate," Ron said weakly. "We'll get you something from the trolley when it comes by." Harry nodded and rose from his seat, strolling from compartment to compartment. He saw Cho Chang eye him nervously, still accompanying the balaclava-clad Marietta Edgecombe. Harry ignored her pointedly, and proceeded until he found what he was looking for. Or more specifically, who he was looking for.

                Harry stepped into the compartment, looking at the girl with long, dirty-blond hair and protuberant eyes. She had her wand tucked behind her left ear, exactly how they had first met, but instead of a magazine, she seemed to be merely gazing out the window at the mountainous scenery the train passed on its journey.

                "Hello, Luna," Harry said nervously. It was the first time he had seen her since they had run into each other in front of the Gryffindor notice board, when she had refused his offer to help her locate her missing possessions. Luna did not reply.

                "Erm…why didn't you let me help you find your stuff?" Harry asked. It was far from what he had intended to say, but anything was better than the uncomfortable silence that threatened to permeate the compartment. Luna looked at him, her pale eyebrows raised in what could have been surprise, though her slight smile remained as dreamy as ever.

                "That's not what you meant to ask me, was it?" Harry gaped at her astute observation, though he could not resist nodding his head. Luna leaned back, as if inviting him to try and voice his question again.

                "Well…you said your mother died when you were nine, right?" Luna nodded, and Harry caught the slight grimness that crept into her smile and pale eyes.

                "And…well…you know how it is to lose someone close to you," he said. Luna nodded again, but Harry sensed no impatience from her, like he might have from a more "normal" person.

                "I was just wondering…did you—when did you stop thinking about her?" Harry asked, feeling very foolish for bringing up the late Mrs. Lovegood. Luna did not seem upset, in fact, she smiled slightly more than she had been smiling before.

                "I never did, Harry. I never had to, she was always right there with me." Harry nodded, unsatisfied at this reference to the veil in the Department of Mysteries that had claimed the life of Sirius Black.

                "I know, I know, that blasted veil—" Luna shook her head,

                "Not the veil, Harry, but here," she said, tapping her chest lightly. "And if I ever got too lonely, Dad would always kiss it better." Luna said this unflinchingly, without the embarrassment that might taint the voice of an average teenager admitting to any kind of affection between them and their parents. Harry snorted derisively at the image of Vernon or Petunia Dursley comforting Harry, to say nothing of them actually kissing him. When he looked up, Luna was gazing at him with a hurt look in her eyes. Harry nearly smacked himself; of course it would look like he was making fun of her.

                "I'm sorry Luna, it's not you. You see—I mean, I can't imagine my Muggle relatives doing anything like…that," he said apologetically. Luna nodded as the hurt receded from her pale eyes.

                "I understand. But you should really find someone who would do that for you. Cho Chang did it, didn't she? I'm sure Hermione Granger wouldn't mind kissing your wounds better." Harry shook his head sadly.

                "Are you serious? Hermione…I don't think Hermione would be interested in kissing me…I'm not her type…I'm not very smart…" Harry trailed off, deciding to stand up. As he began to move for the exit, Luna stood as well, staring into his eyes with her own, which glinted with a hint of determination.

                "I don't think that's true, Harry. I think you're quite intelligent. You _did form the DA, didn't you?" Luna said firmly, taking a step near him. Harry tried to step back, but found himself rooted to the spot. Seeing no other course of action, he nodded._

                "And you did survive You-Know-Who no less than four times, right?" Harry nodded again, wondering where Luna had gone and who this strange person wearing her skin was. Luna moved closer to him. She was nearly pressed against him, so minute was the distance between them. She stared up at him, right into his eyes, her white-grey orbs penetrating his emerald-green eyes.

                Her mouth wasn't quite closed, her lips parted slightly, but Harry found he could not look away from her eyes. He felt warm, and his skin began to crawl, a slow, hot tingling building up in the pit of his stomach.

                She looked at him.

                He looked at her.

                He stared.

                She stared.

                He blinked, and she moved.

                Harry felt a warm sensation on his lips, one that was both familiar and unfamiliar. It could have lasted hours, or perhaps even mere seconds, but Harry managed to place that sensation to a moment in a corridor with a weeping Cho Chang.

                _'A kiss,' Harry thought. __'Luna Lovegood is kissing me. Why? How? What?'  His mind was a mess of incomplete thoughts, his eyes having closed without him realising it. Her lips were soft, warm, and pleasantly moist. Though both of them were quite inexperienced with the opposite sex, Harry was quite pleased with the kiss, though he did not try and advance his tongue into her mouth._

                And before he knew it, she had withdrawn, her eyes fluttering open, the only clue to the fact that she too had felt the need to close her eyes. Her lips were still parted, and Harry found that his were as well. No words were exchanged, though Harry felt as if a huge burden had been lifted. Silently, he walked out of the compartment, leaving Luna Lovegood to smile dreamily at his back.

                Harry made his way back to Ron and Hermione, touching his lips softly where he remembered her kiss. He sat down in his seat, ignoring the mix of questioning and pitying looks that flashed briefly across his friends' faces. For all he knew, they had been snogging since the moment he exited, but he found that he strangely did not care. It was not long before they were forced to disembark the Hogwarts Express, and Harry did so silently, his mind still on Luna Lovegood and the kiss they had shared.

                It had certainly been much more than wet.

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September 1st, 1996

                Summer came and went, and Harry once again found himself on the Hogwarts Express, travelling to the magical school for his sixth year. His summer had been quite uneventful, and he had spent the last few weeks of his holiday with the Weasleys, as usual. But his mind kept returning to Luna, who he had not heard from all summer. It was to be expected, he had never given her an address to contact him at, and he knew she had been in Sweden for the bulk of her holiday. He secretly hoped he would see her on the train, and vowed to find her if she did not find him.

                He sat in the compartment that he would be sharing with Ron and Hermione when they returned from the prefect compartment, staring out the window. He heard the unmistakable sound of his compartment door opening, and expected to see that Neville Longbottom had obtained a plant that emitted particularly foul sap, or perhaps Ginny Weasley looking for her brother.

                "Hello, Harry," said a soft, dreamy voice. Harry's head whipped to the entrance of the compartment to see Luna Lovegood standing there, looking at him as she had looked at him when they had met on this day last year. She silently sat next to him, just in time for Ron and Hermione to burst through the compartment door and into the compartment proper, talking very rapidly to Luna about their summer experiences and asking her what she had done, and Luna slowly, calmly answered them. Harry resigned himself to being the extra person in the conversation, and resumed staring out the compartment window.

                A brief shock of static electricity brought him back to reality, and he felt a small, dainty hand snake over his own and clasp it firmly. Harry shot a glance first to his hand, and then to the owner of the hand atop his. Luna Lovegood gave no sign that she saw his glance, and Harry once more turned to watch the mountains pass him by.

                The hand atop his squeezed briefly, a small, comforting gesture. Harry smiled slightly.

                He had found someone to kiss him better.

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